


To a Standstill

by amyfortuna



Category: Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Frottage, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8189930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Carl and Willis get up to more than just studying and boxing together.





	

It was natural, ordinary even, for two teenage boys, best friends who spent nearly every waking moment together, to tussle and play-fight with the rambunctious innocence of puppies, after long days at school. Two kids such as they were, with pretty near inexhaustible energy, couldn't sit still long to study outside of school, though they did well and both made good grades. 

Inevitably, though, they would end up on Carl's bed or Willis', on a playground somewhere, or in a back room, wrestling each other to a standstill, on days when they couldn't get to the gym for boxing. Carl thought he might have enjoyed these wrestling matches, in some ways, even more than he enjoyed boxing. Boxing was skilled, focused, precise. 

This was messy, off-the-cuff, catch as catch can and get your holds in any way you could. Feeling Willis' body under him, struggling, wriggling frantically, or being underneath Willis, fending him off with hands and well-placed knees, and occasionally, teeth, was intoxicating just as much as the stolen sips of beer at barbecues Carl sometimes managed. 

It always made him hard, though he tried not to let Willis know. The feeling of Willis against him, his warmth, his scent, was too good, too right. All the tension that flowed through Willis' body seemed to fade during those times and he became what Carl always felt he should be: a creature of pure elemental power, using his strength, his passion, his _fire_ to fight Carl to a standstill. 

Carl, though the younger and the smaller, had more innate talent. He was slippery and spry, quick to wriggle out of tight spots, hard to pin down. If in some ways he liked it when Willis pinned him down, that only made him redouble his efforts to escape. 

It was a fairly typical Wednesday afternoon. Prayer meeting was at seven, and they were alone in the back room of the church, tucked away behind the folded-up tables and the nativity scenery. They had their books open but Carl couldn't focus, kept looking up and catching Willis' gaze on him. 

Carl's book shut with a thump. "Come on, man," Carl said, and tackled Willis, who wasn't expecting it, and flailed backwards, his own book sliding from his lap to the ground beside them. 

"Bring it, you little punk!" Willis shot back, and hooked a hand around Carl's shoulders, dragging him up. Carl pushed back, and they tussled together, almost silently, for a few minutes, before Carl realized he was aroused, blood thundering through his veins, Willis' leg pressed up against his hard-on. He squirmed frantically. 

Willis just laughed. "Bet I know what you want," he said, and suddenly his movements changed. He wasn't fighting, he was rubbing against Carl, and Carl realized that Willis was just as turned-on as he was. 

Carl caught his breath and arched up. He was so hard he felt like his dick was going to push its way right out of his jeans. Willis wrapped his arms around Carl's shoulders and rocked into him, back and forth. Carl felt like his face was on fire, that he was going to die of combined embarrassment and arousal, and all the while Willis just stared at him, teeth set like he was concentrating hard. 

A faint incoherent sound issued from Carl's mouth and he heard it distantly, like it didn't belong to him at all. Willis was rubbing just perfect over the head of his dick, rutting against his thigh. His whole body went tense. Carl squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like fireworks were going off behind his eyelids. Chills ran up and down his spine. His toes curled inside his shoes. 

He came all in a rush, surging upward. His ears rang. On top of him, Willis let out a soft moan, and Carl felt wet heat spurt against his leg. Far from being gross, it was somehow the hottest thing he'd ever felt. He gasped for breath like a drowning fish as Willis held on to him. 

Once he recovered his breath, he glared up at Willis. "This ain't gay or nothing," he said. 

Willis' eyes were unreadable. "Sure," he said, rolling off Carl. "Not gay at all."


End file.
